


Our Way to Fall

by gloss



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 22:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6348871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/pseuds/gloss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another narrow escape, another roll <del>in the hay</del> in the <i>Falcon</i>'s bunkroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Way to Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Yo La Tengo [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IOmsaR7ggTE). 
> 
> Enormous thanks to G. for chuckling at the bad jokes, and Muccamukk for inspiring the whole "Finn sucks at lying" thing.

When the deal goes south, Finn and Poe know what they have to do.

They make a break for it, pushing through the crowd of midday shoppers, calling apologies over their shoulders, running as fast as they can for the _Falcon_.

Up the ramp, their boots thudding, and they push each other, shoulders and palms, all the way inside, yelling at Rey to go- _go_ - **GO**.

She's already on top of that, of course. The ramp's folding up and the ship starting to shudder into liftoff before they're fully inside.

Finn collapses, half against the wall, half against Poe, wheezing for breath. 

"Please tell me you have it," Poe says, panting, too; the hysteria of such a close escape is making him want to laugh every bit as much as he wants to slide to the floor and hold himself.

"Have what?" Finn asks, looking up at him. Leaning over, he has his hands braced on his knees, his chest heaving.

"Don't," Poe says. "Please."

"What, the sequencing samples?"

Poe nods.

"I thought you had them!"

"Finn --"

"One second, the Riilebs were totally cool and friendly, then, WHAM! Complete assholes," Finn says. "What _was_ that?"

"I was there, I know what happened."

"I'm just saying, what was their problem?"

Poe sighs and slides down the bulkhead, eyes closed, hands opening and closing on empty air. "Cultural insensitivity. Fluctuating hormone levels. Barometric pressure. Who knows?"

Finn slides down to join him on the floor. "Here."

Poe has his head tipped back; he opens one eye. "Those're the samples?"

Finn grins and waves the tiny pipette pinched between his thumb and forefinger. "These are the samples."

"Asshole," Poe says, smiling slow and wide.

"Yeah," Finn says and gives a great big fake sigh. "Learned from the best, you know how it is."

"I have no idea who you could mean," Poe says.

Finn rocks against him, knocking their shoulders together, then stays there. "You said I was a bad liar."

Poe snorts. "You are. You're the _worst_."

"Fooled you this time, though."

"Different," Poe says and holds up his hand, counting off the points on his fingers. "One, why would I think you'd lie to me? Two, just a _little_ shaken up by having just almost gotten blasted to ugly red smears all over the Vrithian bazaar on market day. And, three --"

Finn waits, but there's no third point coming. "Three?"

"Forgot what three was. But it was a great point, believe me. It really was. Cogent and incisive."

"Sure," Finn says. "Fact remains, maybe I'm not as bad a liar as you claim."

Poe elbows him in the ribs. "Man, you're a _terrible_ liar. You're a bundle of obvious tells wrapped up in a big handsome face that just about screams 'I feel really bad about lying, ask me for details!'"

Scowling, Finn laces his fingers together. "I'm not _that_ bad."

"Why would you want to be a good liar, anyway?" Poe asks, his voice lower.

"I don't want to be good at lying just because."

"No, I don't really see you aiming to be a criminal mastermind," Poe says. He smiles as he rubs his chin, adding, "Finn the Hutt. So what gives?"

"It's a good skill," Finn says. "Handy. It'd make me useful."

"Idiot. You _are_ \--. Wait, if I call you 'useful', that's kind of --"

Finn's grinning now, ducking his head and shaking it. 

"What?" Poe asks, then pauses when Chewbacca's heavy tread gets louder down the passage. 

He's calling to them, the sound not quite agonized, but verging on concerned. 

"We're coming," Finn calls back and hauls himself to his feet, giving Poe a hand up. "Maybe we should get out of the hatch."

"But it's so cozy and welcoming --" Poe tries to say, only to bang his head on a cross-beam.

Finn shakes him by the shoulder. "Come on, Mr. Concussion. Get you to med-bay."

They store the sequencing samples in deep freeze, send a quick success message back to base, and then collapse in the bunkroom with Vrithian ale.

"Nice," Rey says over the ship comms. "Some of us have to fly spaceships while you get to party."

"We almost died!" Finn shouts back. "While some of you got to sit in the cockpit being smug!"

Chewie yells at everyone. Their Shyriiwook varies from "rough" all the way to "nonexistent other than terms for mating and defecation", but no direct translation is necessary: the remark encompasses "grow up" with a heavy tint of "act like professionals".

"We're maintaining sub-light speeds for a bit," Rey says after a bit. "This is solely a professional communication, by the way."

"Everything all right?" Poe calls.

"Just some debris and weird patrols. Nothing important."

"Thank you for your professionalism," Finn yells.

"And you, for yours," she replies, the restrained laughter making her voice, even over the comms, sound richer, almost melodic.

Poe hits the mute switch on the bunk's comms, then helps himself to a handful of Vrithian flatbread shards. He manages to get it all in his mouth, and he's chewing happily, when Finn pokes him in the side.

"Leave some for the rest of us."

Poe hugs the sack of shards. "Mine. Get your own."

"We almost died!" Finn grabs for the sack. "Share."

"That excuse is already getting old, man," Poe says, rolling away, still clutching the sack. It crumples beneath him. 

Finn pushes over him, climbing half on top, digging between Poe and the bunk for the snacks. Poe tries to bat, then elbow, him away, but Finn's making good progress. He's got one leg over Poe's now, and he's pushing himself all the way over.

Poe twists a little and nips down on the side of Finn's neck. "Hey."

"Share."

"Here." He pulls the sack out and pushes it to neutral territory. "Knock yourself out. Or --"

Finn narrows his eyes and goes still. "Or?"

"We could do something else."

"You've got crumbs all over your face, you giant baby." Finn brushes the biggest ones off Poe's cheek, then leaves his hand there. 

Poe's eyebrows go up. "Like what you see?"

Finn shrugs, tries to play it cool, but when Poe cocks his head and wraps his arm around Finn's waist, pulling him all the way over, he gives up and kisses Poe.

"Knew it," Poe whispers against Finn's mouth.

"Hardly a secret," Finn whispers back. He rocks his hips and feels Poe's smile widen.

"True," Poe says, kissing him again, pushing one hand under Finn's waistband to grasp his hip. "Like I said, you're a bundle of tells."

"Yeah," Finn admits, and drags his mouth down the tendon in Poe's neck, sucking a little, smearing spit. At the base of Poe's neck, he looks up. "You're not exactly restrained, either."

Poe shrugs with his whole body, grinning, making Finn ripple over him. He opens his legs, digs his fingers in Finn's hip, and just grins. 

"Dumbass," Finn says and presses his mouth against the hollow of Poe's throat, feeling the pulse jump. When he scrapes teeth down, finding the knob of Poe's collarbone, pushing the fabric of his shirt out of the way with his nose, Poe's hold on him shakes a little, lightening before getting much, much tighter.

"I know what I like," Poe says eventually. "It's a sign of maturity."

"It's a sign of something, sure," Finn says. He pushes himself up on one hand, so he can use to other to open Poe's shirt, get it out of the way.

Poe flexes under him, tries to show off. He shivers, though, when Finn gets his mouth going down the center of his chest - excursions to each nipple, back to the center, tugging at hair with lips and teeth - and finally he's just shivering, period. He clutches at Finn's ass, pushes against his face, and hums happily, the noise burbling out in little bursts and trills.

Finn rests his head against Poe's belly, trying to catch his breath again, find a little calm, some endurance. He shifts a little to the side, snorting when Poe yelps in complaint at losing contact with his ass, and ends up curled against Poe's waist and thigh, mouth on the soft skin and widening trail of hair below his navel.

"Man..." Poe cups the back of Finn's head. "This is good."

"Yeah."

"Really good."

"Totally," Finn says and chuckles. They have the worst time shutting up, even, especially, in bed. He feels heated all the way through, like he's floating in an ultraviolet refresher, buoyed up, weightless but star-hot. He lifts his head to meet Poe's eyes. "I'm going down."

"Yeah?" Poe's smile has a million, maybe more, angles, tilts, widths. This one's broad but private.

"Oh, yeah," Finn says, and when he licks his lips, Poe groans and throws his head back. 

The arch of his neck has another thousand angles, but this one's a good place to start.

Poe's trousers open easily, but they fumble together to get them down, first to his thighs, then past his knees. His cock bounces up and he's going to grab it, work it a little, but Finn gets there first, taking the head between his lips, running his tongue around the ridge, tickling the foreskin, and Poe drops his hand, groaning. The muscles in his thighs lock and tremble. Finn gets up on one knee, working his mouth down; Poe's cock gets all the way hard.

"Finn, man --"

Finn glances up, as well as he can as he's swallowing and flattening his tongue. Poe's cock is pushing into his throat now, first nudging, finally slipping in. He can see the edge of Poe's jaw, the sharp jut of his chin. Then he can't see anything except the close-up blur of Poe's pubic hair, and he pulls up, sucking in desperately-needed air and swirling his tongue.

"Finn," Poe says again.

"Present," Finn says with just the head in his mouth. 

"You're --"

"Yeah," Finn replies, tilting into Poe's palm on his face, smiling, then pushing back down.

"I'm not going to --"

He isn't going to last. If Finn could talk, he'd say, _that's the **point** , buddy_, but he's swallowing again, spit and pre-come and this warm, thick _Poe_ -ness that's flesh, sure, but more, secret and firm. His jaw's getting a little sore, his tongue throbs a little numb, and somehow that's all making this even better. His breath wheezes through his nose; he's light-headed. Poe's holding himself really still under Finn, hand on his throat now.

Poe's panting, high breathy noises, as he strokes himself through Finn's throat. Goosebumps careen over his skin; he shudders all over with the effort to keep still. He catches Finn's eye, once, but the glance is so wild, it's hard to know if he can actually see anything.

When Finn starts moving again, twisting the foreskin around with his lips and tongue as he drags his mouth upward, Poe starts moving, shaking like a carpet snapped out, thrusting shallowly, and _moaning_. When Finn moans back - he can't _not_ answer Poe, not even now - Poe moves faster, his body undulating upward from thighs to head. 

His neck is arched impossibly high now; there's a frantic throb to the vein there that matches the one under Finn's tongue. 

Finn shifts the angle a little, letting up the pressure on his shoulders, and pushes his mouth down, one more time, taking in as much air as he can before his throat's filled, solid, every little pulse and tremble from Poe communicated into Finn, across his chest, down into his dick.

"Buddy, I'm --"

_Way ahead of you,_ he'd tell Poe, but all he can do is grunt and pat Poe's chest with his free hand. He grunts again, as Poe's dick shakes and holds, then tremors, _hard_ , shooting down Finn's throat.

He's seeing little black spots as Poe finishes. He'd like, at once, to stay right here, connected and _filled_ , but he'd also like to breathe.

A little come runs out the side of his mouth as he pulls off, but before he can wipe it, Poe grabs his hand and pulls him up. Just now, Poe feels about thirty meters tall, but finally, there's his face, his grin, his kiss pushing into Finn's sticky mouth, sucking him clean. Licking off his lips and chin, then kissing him again, making happy little noises all the while.

Finn pulls himself even closer, throwing a leg over Poe's, thrusting lazily against the sweaty skin over Poe's hip.

"You want me to --" Poe starts to ask, but Finn kisses him quiet and pulls his hand over between their bodies. Poe makes a noise that might be "oh" but it's muffled and kind of grunty.

He seems to have got the message, though, not breaking the kiss but shuffling around, going up on his side as he wraps his hand around Finn's cock and jerks him nice and hard. Finn's been hard so long that he can _feel_ how slick the head is, and Poe does that thing with his thumb and index finger, sliding it up and down, slicking all of Finn's shaft.

Finn pushes his hips forward, grinding into Poe's grasp, groaning a little when Poe pauses to lick his palm. Maybe it needs to get wet, but it mostly looks like he's taking his time, enjoying the taste. When he catches Finn looking at him, he shrugs a little, sucks off one finger with a big, obscene _slurp_ , and takes hold of Finn again.

"Sorry," he whispers, speeding his hand.

"You're so not," Finn says, thrusting ragged, losing the easy rhythm of breathing. He tightens his arm around Poe's shoulders and shoves, harder, grinding out. The orgasm hits down his spine and up his legs, pulsing bright and hard, and Poe pushes him on his back, kissing him hard, pulling out the last of it.

He gulps for air, the sizzle and sparkle of aftershocks lighting up across his body, making him twitch and shiver. Poe pulls himself closer, along Finn's side. When he smiles, he manages to look both smug and sated. When Finn peels off the curls plastered to his forehead, Poe butts into the touch like a starved street pittin.

Their breathing evens out, matches up, and, finally, tiredness seems to hit them both.

"We almost _died_ ," Finn says again. His throat hurts a little; he sounds rough.

Poe pokes him lightly in the shoulder. "We almost die on a regular basis."

"Yeah, so we should celebrate every time."

Poe opens his eyes halfway, then rubs his forehead against Finn's temple. "Good point."

"Thank you," Finn says.

"You, sir, are welcome."

"If you two are done," Rey says over the comms, "we're making the jump now."

They raise their heads, staring at each other, then checking the mute button on the comms panel.

"How does she...?" Poe whispers.

"She _heard_?" Finn says. 

"I can't hear you," Rey continues. "I'm just fairly good at recognizing patterns of behavior."

Chewie chimes in, yipping a little.

"He says neither of you are subtle in the least," she adds. "Jumping now."

They hold tight.


End file.
